


My Love

by adrift_me



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bittersweet, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 18:12:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18609844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrift_me/pseuds/adrift_me
Summary: Bilbo knows what it is like to have a longing. The ring in his pocket reminds him of that feeling often enough, and thus when Bilbo is faced with a choice of returning the Arkenstone to its supposed owner, he doesn't hesitate.Or does he?





	My Love

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt fill, this time: Bilbo returns the Arkenstone to Thorin.
> 
> This fic is neither happy nor sad, bittersweet is the word.
> 
> By the way, if you have any bagginshield prompts, you can throw them my way, I'd love to write them for you!  
> [Send them to my inbox on tumblr :)](http://accio-toffy.tumblr.com)

It should be so easy to deny Thorin. To step back, to reevaluate, to go to the “enemy’s” front and present them with a gift that everyone is craving for.

Bilbo’s fingers feel the pocket: there is a mysterious ring, he has no time for it just yet. He moves to the other pocket; there is a tiny acorn back from the Shire, warm like the summer sun. And there is something else. Barely hidden in the pocket of his coat, large and cold, it burns his hand. The Arkenstone. The very gift he has brought to the King under the Mountain.

Thorin’s eyes shimmer in the same feverish way that the Arkenstone glows and glimmers in Bilbo’s hand when he pulls it out. His heart is beating like that of a prey as he watches feelings change in the dwarf’s eyes, from surprise to unhealthy love to a settling of power. It doesn’t sit right with Bilbo, but he also knows it is not his call to make to spur change.

And he carefully pushes the stone in Thorin’s hands.

“At last… you found it,” he says, his voice a reverent whisper and his gaze a song of a sword being sharpened.

His fingers softly caress the glass-like surface of the stone, and Bilbo watches, swallowing dryly. It feels odd. As if he has sealed his own journey, wrapped up a story but it doesn’t come across as a happy ending. It feels unfinished.

Or even undone.

Thorin smiles at Bilbo, reaching forward to take the hobbit’s hands and put them on the Arkenstone, covering them with his own. The hands are warm and the Arkenstone is almost burning cold, wintery ice, its cool light pushing in-between the intertwined fingers, spilling the light in the chamber.

“You have returned the heart of the kingdom… You shall be rewarded, Bilbo, beyond imaginable. They will laud you a hero, I will…” Thorin speaks faster and faster, losing breath, losing dignity in his eyes as he spills love over the stone and Bilbo.

“Thorin,” the hobbit calls out to him quietly. There is quiet clinking and clattering behind them, the other members of the Company filing into the chamber, their eyes widening, their mouths whispering. Bilbo avoids their gaze - it was his decision to make, but he knows they would have stopped him.

Thorin laughs and turns around, his massive cloak swiping over the floor.

“Company! The Kingdom shall live again!” he exclaims, almost roars, holding the Arkenstone tightly in his hands and raising it high in the air. It casts light across the chamber, hitting off the rocks of the high ceiling, off the mirror-polished floor.

“Thorin...” Balin says in barely concealed disappointment and worry. Thorin rushes towards him, and the Company flinches, but all he does is throw his arms around the dwarf, embracing him.

“We shall never be defeated again. No dragon will harm us, no other king will trespass on our home. I name you all the protectors of the kingdom, and our treasures shall be your reward. And you…”

Thorin turns around. His eyes ever so heavy, peeking from beneath the brows, turn to Bilbo who stands there, small and defeated, waiting. The king steps towards him, heavy footfalls, light clanking of the armor and the cloak. He approaches and reaches towards the hobbit, his calloused fingertip pushing Bilbo’s chin up.

“You are named the hero of the kingdom, master Baggins. What you have done for us all, for me… Is a treasure uncomparable to mine.”

There has never been an instance in Bilbo’s life when he wanted to both stay and run away, self preservation yearning for an escape but his heart begging to stay right there, chin touched by a gentle finger. Going away would be wise, but Bilbo has never been what one could call wise. It is not so easy to think straight when one’s mind is blurred by love.

And so he sighs and nods slightly, closing his eyes and shooing tears away. Thorin’s knuckles caress his face, down the side of his cheek, his temple, his nose - and but a gentle brush on the lips.

“My love…” Thorin says, and when Bilbo’s eyes flutter open, he does not know if the king has said it to him or to the glowing treasure in his hand. He retreats with slow steps, humming a joyful tune under his breath. And Bilbo watches his back, face burning from the delicate touches. 

As if thrown in a bucket of ice cold water, he comes to realise that he may have committed a grave mistake. But it would be highly hypocritical to say that he doesn’t know how Thorin feels and why he did it.

The ring in his pocket now has a feeling just as icy cold as the Arkenstone. But the need it inspires in him is… almost scorching. He has seen it in the mirrored floor and the piercing bright eyes of the King, he has seen his own reflection. His mind diminishes to a tunnel vision, and greed burns at his heart. The ring burns at his finger.

And some hours later, Thorin’s lips burn at his mouth.

In the end, they are not that different. And Bilbo knows what it’s worth.


End file.
